Charged
by Dendey
Summary: G1 Once again this is a joined effort between Xobit Prime as Ultra Magnus & Wishmaster as Ratchet. The whole RP started some months ago and now we’ve decided to share. DISCONTINUED
1. HighGradeInduced Stupor

Wishmaster: We don't own, so don't sue

Wishmaster: We don't own, so don't sue. Just played with them a little and saved some of the happenings fer our collective enjoyment!

Xobit Prime: well we own the smex

Wishmaster: oh yeah! Right...good point there! we kinda do...

Xobit Prime: yeah! ... can it be called the jucie parts when it involves mech sex?

Wishmaster:...no, I don't think so...but we could call it the smoking, smoldering, smelting parts if we wanna put name to our claim of ownership!

Wishmaster: and never forget the glowing and sparking and sizzling and...

Xobit Prime:... your nasty... me likes XD

Wishmaster: well it was part a the job discription ya know? 'Nasty medic wanted on ship full of femmes', so I happily applied

Xobit Prime:... wow that sounded soooo porn like (giggles insanely) okay this is almost but not quite PWP

Wishmaster: second that

Xobit Prime: yeah the story not the A/N... well maybe the A/N too

Wishmaster: probably and I'd say as an additional warning fer the story...uhm...is over energizing compatible to drug use?

Wishmaster: cuz one a 'em does get slagged beyond reasonable

Xobit Prime: i guess it is sooo... warning fer mech drunkenness or highness

Wishmaster: alright, all warnings out then?

Xobit Prime: post it or they'll kill us

Wishmaster: awww...but me looooove keepin' 'em in suspense...'pouts'

Xobit Prime: true... is fun... but then ya will get ya revenge no?

Wishmaster: my revenge?

Xobit Prime: let them read and all will be revealed

Wishmaster:...'doubtfully'...o-okay

-

Charged

-

He emptied the...was it his sixth or his sevent cube of high-grade already? Ratchet just couldn't remember it, apparently his processor had decided not to keep up with how many energon cubes he'd be depleting tonight, but that was just as well, because then he couldn't berate himself for the exact amount the next morning.

Entering the rec-room a battle wary Magnus hurried to the dispenser and gabbed three cubes of mid-grade energon. He wanted a quick meal and his berth. Pit! He hated being a leader… every decision he took seemed to send mechs to the med bay, he almost stumbled when he turned and caught a glimpse of Ratchet out of the corner of his optic. The CMO never came into the rec-room unless there was a party. Turning his head back he registered the slumped form and the empty cubes in front of it. Immediately worry kicked in and he forgot about his own wariness. Walking over to the CMO he asked carefully:  
"Hey Ratchet… Mind if I sit with you?"

His scanners hadn't even registered the approaching form of Ultra Magnus, so he must have had at least nine cubes of high-grade already. He knew from experience that he could register any and every move of any and all mechs up until his ninth cube...  
"Ask the chair if it'll mind to carry your weight and if it doesn't complain, I guess you could...", he mumbled, not looking up in greeting like he usually did, instead he reached for another full cube of high-grade. Now he was glad that he'd been, at the very beginning of this high-grade-session, thoughtful enough to make two stacks of cubes, one for the good ones and one for the empty ones.

Not good… Ratchet wasn't even looking at him and he kept right on drinking. Putting down his own energon he seated himself at the table, inwardly musing on the best way to get the medic talking… talking! Not yelling or throwing things around. Reaching out he took a cube and swallowed a sip, all the while watching the drinking mech before him. He knew Ratchet as well as anyone did, but what did that really mean? They had served together on and off for eons and he couldn't really say they were close friends… he wanted to but he couldn't. Ratchet never let anyone in close, other then Prime, his fellow medics and maybe Wheeljack and Perceptor. But here and now he was all the help the medic would get!  
"Why are you trying to drink the Arks entire stock of high grade? Alone I mean, I'm sure Jazz would love to help you out!", joking didn't come naturally to him and still it was worth a try.

Registering that the other officer was talking to him took him an astrosecond or two, looking up from his high-grade took another, processing what he'd said another two or three and coming up with a response took him three entire astroseconds. He knew then that he was wasted beyond anything he'd ever managed to accomplish before and he cheered for himself internally.  
"Because I want to get wasted, which I've got a good chance to accomplish better than I've ever managed to before and Jazz isn't here because I'm greedy enough to want it all for myself.", he dead panned and was a little proud of himself at the clear speach his vocalizer managed to produce. Even wasted beyond anything a sane mech would call tolerable he could give qualified answers to complex questions, it just took him longer to voice them than it would if he was sober.

It took some time for Ratchet to answer him and the answer didn't make a lot of sense, he considered his next question but ended up just asking:  
"and why do you want to get wasted?" it was perhaps unwise Ratchet was known for his temper, but on the other hand the mech was wasted and trying to get it out of him without asking directly… well slim chance, very slim. So he asked and braced himself for the possible explosion. The medic was an enigma to him, had always been… he couldn't understand his reactions. He seldom had reason to visit the medbay, unless he was in stasislock, which is why he did not see that much of him. Actually only when he delivered damaged mechs after a mission and then Ratchet was always angry, yelling about stupidity and unnecessary damage.

Thinking over it his processor unfogged slightly and the vivid image of a battleground popped up. Todays battle had reminded him of a decidedly dark chapter in his career as a field-medic and he would rather not remember it. Groaning he let his head slump forward onto the desk upon which he'd staked the high-grade, which he intended to deplete further and soon at that.  
"Don't remind me.", he asked of the other officer and just reached for a new cube, throwing it into the back of his open mouth and processing it instantly, fogging his processor back up a little further, but not as badly as it had been before. He couldn't be becoming tolerant to the stuff this fast now could he? If so he'd have to patch up his own brand further...

Considering his options he eyed the slagged medic, all his calculations showed that he would fall into recharged as soon as he hit a berth. He got to his feet putting his last two cubes into his subspace pocket along with some of the high grade ones the medic was guzzling. He effortlessly dragged the smaller medic up from his seat holding him to his side with an arm around his chest section.  
"Come on your sleeping in my quarters tonight", ignoring any and all protests he dragged him out of the rec-room and into the lift punching the controls to bring them to the officers deck.

Trying to fight Ultra Magnus for his freedom proved to be fruitless, so he decided to assault his audio-receptors to regain said freedom.  
"Let go of me you petro-rabbit bitten tin can!", it only earned him an eye ridge raised in surprise, but not his freedom. He was still pressed against the other mechs chassis, his left arm draped over his torso, holding him close to steady his steps, yet his feet were barely brushing the ground. Ultra Magnus wasn't dragging him along after they stepped out of the lift, but more like carrying him at his side.  
"Let go! I can walk on my own and I do not require to be carried like an injured Sparkling!", he protested with renewed vigor and started to scratch at the plating at the back of the mech with is right hand, his left was still clutching a cube of high-grade he'd intended to swallow in one go just like the last one.

Making sure he had a good hold on the squirming medic he thought, _'Well, well Ratchet is certainly a vocal drunk!'_ After the first surprise he decided to ignore the name-calling, inwardly laughing at the fact that Ratchet, in his drunken stupor, seemed unable to come up with anything more creative then tin can. The squirming was slightly annoying so he lifted him a bit more as he exited the lift, when Ratchet started grousing again he began laughing, the laughter however quickly turned into a choked whimper when, seemingly in anger, Ratchet began clawing at his back armor. He was tempted to just dump the medic on the floor, but considering his slagged state he couldn't be doing it on purpose! _'Primus help me! Remember give him the benefit of the doubt he might be the CMO but he can't possibly know what he's doing!!' _biting back a moan as digits brushed over some of his most sensitive pressure nodes, he nearly crushed the lock pad on his quarters door. With dogged determination he got the code punched in, the door opened and then he did dump the medic inside the quarters, turning around to activate a time lock.  
"Okay you!" he looked down at the medic and pointed to his berth "get on that and go into recharge!"

"Why should I listen to you officer? I am perfectly capable to make decisions for myself on my own!", he shot back and demonstrated just that, by raising his left hand and downing the cube of high-grade in one go. He had clung to it in his struggles and with that he had carried with him to Ultra Magnus quarters, a fact the other officer didn't look all too pleased about. Ratchet just grinned smugly and rejoyced in the slight fog that now covered his processor, making him forget that just today he had again been splattered in another mechs processed energon, working with his arms deep in said mechs chassis and only barely managing to halt his off-lining process...His whole frame went utterly still, just sitting on the floor and staring into the empty cube in his hand. He had done what he shouldn't have done, he had thought about what it had been he wanted to forget, bringing it out of the fog and enabling it to torment him further. One of these days one of his patients may not be so lucky...it was a constant threat to lose mechs in a war, yet Ratchet could proudly state that very few had ever died on one of his berths...not a single mech under his care had died since the war had started. It couldn't cheer him up though, it had been far too close today...  
"Maybe not the best thing to do.", he mumbled and let go of the empty cube. Struggling into a standing position proved to be difficult and he felt his internal balance was so off-key that if the task proved to be this difficult for an astrosecond longer his processor would be overwhealmed enough to order the expell of washer fluids. Ratchet was a very privat mech and no one had ever seen his optics leak fluids before and he certainly intended to keep it that way! So he reinforced his struggles, yet only managed to end up falling, faceplate kissing Ultra Magnus feet, back onto the floor.

Still struggling with the arousal Ratchet had unknowingly created in him, he strived valiantly for patience and ignored the words coming out of the Medics dermaplates. He had a harder time ignoring the… cheeky behavior and felt like asking him if he had deliberately reverted to sparklinghood. The medic was acting really strange… at least Magnus thought he was, he really couldn't say maybe Ratchet did this all the time. Then the Medic went still, completely still even his faceplate froze, he mumbled something inaudible and dropped the empty cube onto the floor. He was about to snap at him when the Medic tried to get up, and failed utterly. Staring in confused shock, it took him a couple of astroseconds before he bent down and hauled him up. Tired as he was he used a bit more force than necessary and ended up stepping back against the door as Ratchet's weight hit his chest plate.  
"Pit! I'm sorry Medic… slaggit I'm too tired for this…" he leaned back against the door, still holding Ratchet, off-lining his optics and cursing the event's of the day from the bottom of his spark casing.

The fall or rather the following connection of his frame with the floor hadn't hurt him per sé, at least he wasn't damaged, yet it had triggered that slagged washer fluid expell Ratchet dispised so much. All he wanted to do was run away and hide himself in the deepest and darkest part of the universe for the rest of his functional time, yet he wasn't even strong enough to struggle against Ultra Magnus when said mech picked him up and crushed him against his chest plate. His equilibrium was reeling and his processor was fogging up again.  
"...let go...", he uttered in a, to himself, frighteningly weak and broken sounding vocalisation. All he had wanted to do was drown in high-grade, it seemed as if now he would drown in humiliation instead...the universe could be a real bitch at times...

As the broken voice reached his audio receptors, surprise made him on-line his optics and take a good look at the mech in his arms. He had no idea what to do, he could deal with anger, resentment and cheekiness… but sorrow? What was he supposed to do here? One good thing, the sight of the fluid trails on Ratchet's cheek plates squashed his arousal, more effectively then anything else could possibly have done. He shifted his grip and carried the mech to his berth, sitting him on it rather awkwardly. Kneeling down in front of him he decided to apologize, even if Ratchet was too slagged to remember it after recharge at least he would have it off his spark!  
"Listen… I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing bringing you here. But I could see that you were hurting and… drowning hurt in high grade, it's just not a viable solution…" Slaggit! He sounded like a-a… he had no idea what he sounded like but this wasn't what he had been aiming for.  
"…I'm really sorry! I'm much too tired for this and… I'm going to let you recharge now." apparently he couldn't say anything the right way, better to just shut up and let the Medic be. He got to his feet and turned from the berth.

He felt Ultra Magnus shifting his grip on him to carry him to the recharge berth, he felt...beyond himself. Ratchet wasn't a femme and felt like yelling at the officer again, yet he just kept quiet instead. When he was placed on the berth, he averted his optics in embarassment and tried to wipe away that darned washer fluid, but it just wouldn't stop leaking...  
"It's the only solution I've ever found to help.", he countered.  
"I should be going, your right. You need your recharge.", he amended and stood up from the berth shakily. Trying to get to the door proved difficult, but he'd onlined stubborn and he sure as the pit would offline that way too, so he'd stay stubborn in this also and if it was just to keep the habit.

Turning again he grasped Ratchets shoulder.  
"Hey! No you're recharging here tonight Medic, whether you like it or not… besides I've put a time lock on the door and if push comes to shove I'll ask Metroplex to seal us inside until you have had a decent recharge!" Okay, it was a low blow, but somehow he didn't want the medic to be alone right now… and if that meant he would have to duck a few more wrenches in the future so be it!  
"I'll leave you alone on the berth, and recharge in my office chair, now lie DOWN!!" He used his command voice on the last word, not that he expected it to work but maybe… opening his link to Metroplex he politely asked him to not open his quarter doors unless someone would die with out Ratchet there, a slightly amused affirmative answered him.

"Alone on your berth? HAVE YOU BLOWN A GASKET YOU SLAGGED OUT MAIN FRAME GLITCH?!", he hollered at the officer. As if he couldn't take care of himself! It was laughable, yet he was right, his last real recharge had been a few orns ago...but that didn't mean that he could just take command over him. Or rather it didn't mean that he had to follow said command! Shrugging off the hand on his shoulder proved to render him off-balance, yet he managed to grasp Ultra Magnus waist in his fall, dragging him to the floor with him and trapping the mech underneath his frame, preventing him from getting up again.

Going down under the medic was not something Magnus had expected to happen, his thoughts ran along the line of 'Well this was awkwa… nice? Uh oh', his engine purred at the full chassis contact and the desire from before slammed into him with a vengeance. As the medic shifted on top of him to get off, he had to off-line his optics and gave some creative prayers to Primus for the ability to hold on! It had been far too long since he had last had company on his berth, grating his dermaplates he tried to grasp and still the squirming medic. He just couldn't get a hold of anything and tried to slide his hands over armor plating until he found something to grasp, he was so focused on getting the medic off before he betrayed his arousal that he didn't notice Ratchet's reaction at all.

At the purring of Ultra Magnus engine he stilled for an astrosecond in wonderment, then he tried to get off of the officer, because he was confusing him. His optics were offline, so he wouldn't be able to trace his way, if he managed to escape now, yet the officers hands were faster on his chassis then he had managed to partially sit up on the others legs. Hands brushing all along his chassis were something he hadn't expected to happen tonight, otherwise he never would've downed that many cubes of high-grade. It was a well-kept secret of his that his sensor nodes became hyper sensitized from high-grade and no one had ever managed to use that fact to his advantage, because no one had ever known. Ultra Magnus on the other hand seemed to be using it to his advantage without knowing and the feedback his sensor nodes sent to his main-processor had Ratchet reeling on the inside. 'Too long...far too long...wont last...', was all he could process, before his spark flared and he nearly chocked on a moan he couldn't hold in any longer.

The spark flare was unexpected and undid his resolve, his hands gently curled around whatever armour they were touching, the tips of his left digits digging into a leg transformation seam the right ones into one of the major seams on Ratchet's back. It would have been nice to be able to say he knew what the pit he was doing to get such a delicious moan out of the medic; he didn't however since his own spark made its agenda known! It flared as powerfully as Ratchet's had just done, making his back bow up off the floor. He actually whimpered desperately, running his left hand up Ratchet's leg carefully keeping his digits from hurting the smaller mech. He sounded entirely wrong as he stuttered out his apology.  
"C-can't ssstop meDIC! Uhhh... f-f-finissssh IT!! P-Please!?" His spark made it quite clear he was telling the truth as crackles escaped it along with his second flare.

Feeling his processor split in pleasure was always disorrientating for him. One part would 'go to sleep' so to speak, while the other part was focused on overload alone. He didn't process the fact that he was on top of another officer, his spark flaring and already registering the build up of energy crackles within the others spark. All he could focus on was the output of his sensors. The digits digging into his transformation seams and running along his armor were more arousing than anything he had ever experienced before and he knew then and there that the others plea wouldn't be in vain. Couldn't be in vain, because he wouldn't be able to draw this out, his spark needed this overload as much as Ultra Magnus seemed to and he was glad he could obey while getting what his spark wanted at the same time.  
"If your asking so nicely!", he purred, leaning down over the others torso and bringing their dermaplates together, his hands resting on the others chest close to his spark, energy crackles travelling over his hands, up his arms and to his spark, which sent out it's answer with a magnificent flare and a burst of energy crackles that snapped clear through the air into the direction of the other spark it sensed there. Ratchet had barely enough control of himself left to lower his torso a little to let the energy crackles pass directly to and from their sparks, while arching into the stroking hand on his back at the same time.

Ohhh Primus… even his lust foggy processor picked up on the change in tone, the medic was practically purring and the flare following it had him digging his digits further inside Ratchets transformation seams pulling him down to his chest. Ratchet himself was already moving down and the combined effort had their chest slamming against each other, the direct contact intensified his next flare and the output of spark crackles. Wrenching his dermaplates from Ratchet's he half snarled "come on then!" and licked along the medics faceplate teasing the delicate seams located there.

Ultra Magnus fierce exclamation of sheer want drove him on and so he traced his hands, which had been previously splayed over the others torso, over every armor edge he could reach. Only ever slightly brushing along the internal wiring, he moved them up to the others vocalizer. A mechs vocalizer usually had a most delicate structure and he expertly managed to use that to his advantage. Stimulating the sensor nodes around it with hard strokes, he caused them to spark by just running his glossa over the outer armor protecting them. Yet he threw that out of the proverbial window once he felt Ultra Magnus glossa on his face. He offlined his optics to enforce and enjoy the touch further. All he could do was moan in pleasure, his spark flaring wildly, energy crackles travelling only a short distance now, slamming into his spark with barely less energy than he charged his own with. Their overload was imminent and Ratchet tried to further their pleasure with one last, almost desperate joining of dermaplates and glossas. That way they felt every moan, every sigh, every expletive and every struggle for a grasp of a little countenance. They would all be in vain of course, yet they were the most delicious just before overload...

This was the best he had felt in a long, long time. He wasn't usually underneath, because of his lager chassis and weight he was careful of his lovers. He kept control of his overloads, never letting go entirely… but this time he wouldn't be able to do that, it had all started so unexpected. He sucked on Ratchet's glossa a deep moan vibrating his shout box, hunger burned brightly in his processor and his spark flared almost continually now a never ending stream of bright crackles crawling over their frames. He shifted one of his hands up to the back of Ratchets helmet, carefully massaging the seams around his audio receptor, hoping to get as strong a reaction out of this as he had gotten from licking the mechs face seams.

The sensual caresses were nearly undoing him, yet he was a medic and unwavering in his sheer stubbornness. He would cause Ultra Magnus to overload before him! Or at least with him, if those digits knew how to do what they were doing quite efficiently right now...Moaning in pleasure became a constant output of his vocalizer and he thrived to achieve the same. He let his glossa trail over the walls of the others shout box, pushing at them and trying to make them retreat to rub directly on the wiring beyond. Instead he sent his digits underneath the heavy battle armor the other was wearing, teasing data wires on their way and stimulating sensor nodes to ensure a chaos in the others processor. Their spark flares were so constant they seemed like a line with only minimal dibs in between. Overload was fast approaching and Ratchet wasn't at all sure if he was ready for it...

Feeling that the energy built up had reached its breaking point, he wanted to take the medic with him and so shifted his grip again. The downside of being bigger then your lover was the difficulty of getting to sensitive wires, the up side was that he didn't need to be inside a seam to make the sensor nodes go nuts all he needed was to apply the right amount of pressure, the mech that had taught him how was a long time in his past. Running his hand down Ratchet's back he did just that teasing every node he found, down the thigh ending up pressing his digit tips into the back of the knee. That got a reaction and what reaction! He held on to the back of the medics helmet as his frame bucked against his own, it was enough to set his overload off and it was powerful enough that he was lost to the world within seconds! It had been a long time since his last overload and even longer since his last real overload… he screamed into Ratchet's mouth, unable to hold back anything in the face of this overwhelming pleasure.

His processor was in chaos, data streams easily overflowing it and the sensor nodes on the back of his thighs had quite the direct line to his CPU as well...Trying to press deeper into the caressing hands, he jerked at the sudden pressure applied to the back of his knee joints. He'd never known they could feel like that! Ultra Magnus spark crackles were drawing his own spark crackles in, in an attempt to connect and Ratchet's processor went white. He felt the vibration of his shout box that the officer created, yet he couldn't move at all to reciprocate anymore. He'd reached his limit, energy crackles running all over his chassis, encompassing all of his systems and sending his armor tingling pleasantly at the places it connected with that of Ultra Magnus...and it was quite an expanse of connected armor space...Not even high-grade could make him feel like this and he wondered if he could fill a cube with the officers spark crackles to take them with him after they both resurfaced from their recharge...

He came back to his own chassis slowly, all his systems clamoring for him to recharge, with a heavy and very much in recharge medic lying on top of him. He couldn't help laughing quietly and giddily, who would have known that something like that was hidden beneath the 'fury of the medbay' as the twins had called him. He began to carefully shift him to one side so he could get up and get them to the berth. It proved easier then he had thought, however lifting the medic was not! And he just barely managed to get him up on the berth surface, not to mention his own bulk. By that time he was so tired he didn't register his next action, he enfolded the smaller mech in a hug pulling him to lie more or less underneath him in a protective cage of arms, chest and legs.


	2. Mornin' After

Charged

-

Wishmaster: Guess, it's liked huh?  
Xobit Prime: 'cause it is! is a goood story  
Wishmaster: And comin' from one of the authors...somehow that isn't saying all that much no?  
Xobit Prime: well... I was spaking of ya part ya know...  
Wishmaster: I am like so glad right now that our reviewers CAN'T see me blushin' here...  
Xobit Prime: (pokes Wish) well they can use their imagination... no?  
Wishmaster: (horrified) SIS! _Please_ don't give them ideas!  
Xobit Prime: what? ya blush over me saying ya do good... i mean considering what HAPPENS in this fic  
Wishmaster: well, considering it's not US DOING THAT in this fic, yeah I kinda feel allowed ta blush...besides, yer part a the story is just as good if not better than mine!  
Xobit Prime: Meh... Magnus is fun to do! Btw we have got to get a 'love interest' for Metroplex!  
Wishmaster: Bluestreak, defiantly Bluestreak!  
Xobit Prime: O.o ohhh nice one Sis  
Wishmaster: thanx, I mean they kinda fit, Blue' can talk a mile a minute and 'Plex always knows what's goin' on inside a him, no? So yeah, they'd kinda never tire of talking with one another.  
Xobit Prime: true at that... Hey dear readers is that a combo ya'll wanna see? and sis think we sould give them the chappy already?  
Wishmaster: Awww...no more teasing then huh? Oh alright, there ya go dear readers, please do stay in an organized line or Red and Prowl will have yer heads! XD

-

Charged...again XD

-

Onlining after a quite refreshing recharge all that was bugging him was his processor ache, which always accompanied him the first breem online after digesting high-grade the night before and the strange slackness of his joints. Usually his joints were tightly wound and he had problems to relax them, even in recharge. But the most disturbing fact was the darkness of his quarters and the fact that he couldn't move all that much, at least he knew that his joints weren't the problem. Searching for the light switch with his right hand, he brushed along what he thought could be the wall, yet the metal itself felt decidedly different from the regular metal used within the Ark. Brushing upwards to reach the hopefully there light switch, he felt a spark underneath his palm and instantly panicked! He tried to wrestle himself free, yet found that he was very restricted in his ability to move...if he was honest with himself he could barely move more then his left arm!

He took his time on-lining from recharge, it was so seldom he had the time to enjoy just lying about, even more seldom he could enjoy holding someone… wait, what? The Medic twisted in his grip.  
"Ohhh stop it Ratchet! This is too nice to give up…" his voice was low and reflected the fact that he wasn't entirely on-line yet.  
"I can't enjoy my day off if you keep squirming like this…" he dragged a hand down the medics back, all the way down to his knee joint and pressed it lightly.

What the fricken pit was he doing in the same room as Ultra Magnus? And why was the mech recharging nearly on top of him? His day off? If Ratchet was correctly informed, and he seldomly wasn't, then Ultra Magnus would return from his mission and have the next day off...which should be two days from now...had he really spent the past two days in a high-grade induced stupor? Apparently...seeing as Ultra Magnus was back AND it was his day off...Yet that still didn't mean that he had to take whatever the officer decided to dole out at him! Those arms nearly crushing him didn't exactly help him to untangle himself from the other mechs limbs, so he struggled harder, but then the officer did the one thing that stopped him in his tracks. Passing down one hand over his back and pressing onto the sensor nodes in his leg and the back of his knee joint. Ratchet could do nothing but moan at the suddenly very pleasurable stimulation to the very sensible wires and nodes hidden there...

"Could you do that again? I like it when you touch me." the statement was quite out of sync with what had happened, he was referring to Ratchet's abruptly cut off caress of his chest armor.  
"I like the way you moan too!" that statement was a lot easier to comprehend and he made sure Ratchet would have a reason to moan some more! Curling his hand around the whole front of the knee joint his digit tips came to rest on the back and side of said joint and he applied shifting pressure to the nodes, making very sure he didn't hurt the mech. Since Ratchet was lying on his other arm he used it to drag him into full chassis contact and began caressing his side, it was a bit awkward to reach but he manage nicely. Besides it was worth the trouble if he could get more pleasure noises out of the medic. Bowing his head he managed to lick at the top of Ratchet's helmet and had to moan himself, this was way too good!  
"You should be illegal, as the human saying goes, your slagging addictive!" he moaned again, his spark flaring lazily.

His processor was a fricken mess of sensor outputs that just tumbled in through the wires to his main processor. No one had ever found out that his knee joints were this sensitive, yet Ultra Magnus seemed to know precisely what he was doing! It was aggravating not to know how he'd gained this knowledge, yet it was the most pleasurable stimulation he had been submitted to since Cybertron, so his logic processor couldn't exactly find it within itself to mind...His spark was on the same track, easily flaring in answer to the other mechs spark and clearly inviting it to more...Realizing what his hands were doing, passing over the other officers chest, easily complying his request without ever considering the opinion of his main processor first, he also realized that Ultra Magnus had the most arousing moan his audio receptors had ever picked up. Moaning in appreciation of the others skilled hands he couldn't stop the reply that just flowed out of his dermaplates.  
"Your not so bad yourself...", had he truly just said that? Apparently he had and his calculation processor was agreeing with him on every bit of that statement.

"ohh yeah… that feels nice medic!" His vocalizer had dropped an octave and he nearly growled the words, as he felt Ratchet's hands caress his chest plate. At Ratchet's words he began shifting carefully so that the medic lay beneath him. He then moved back on the berth lifting one of the medic's legs up, he stopped and caught his optics.  
"I'm guessing you wouldn't mind a bit of spoiling? Tell me if you don't enjoy it…" he smiled rather predatory, before he began licking and nipping at the foot he held. Ohh yeah it had been far too long since he had indulged in another mech… he was always careful with choosing a partner so this was something completely new and quite probably, sadly enough, a one time deal! Which meant he would have to get the most out of it… he had never, ever been with a mech who could make him so horny in such a short time. Licking inside an armor seam on Ratchet's foot he hummed in pleasure knowing full well that the vibrations would feel like teasing ghost touches to the medic. He slid one hand further up the leg to tease the knee joint, Ratchet seemed to find that particular caress very arousing.

He had never even considered the possibility that such a low vocalization could turn him on, yet it did…He held perfectly still when Ultra Magnus moved away from him, taking his right foot into his hands only to tease him further! His spark was disappointed that the others was further away now, yet his logic processor quickly shut his sparks opinion out as the mech reached for his knee joint again. It was his weakest spot and he'd probably do anything asked of him if requested now…  
"Stop now and you'll know what a medic can do if deprived of enjoyment!", he hissed a challenge and couldn't supress his spark flare anymore. He wanted this, yet he knew that it wasn't what he should want. He had hardly any idea about Ultra Magnus character. All he knew was what Optimus had told him about his second in command, with pride and fondness of an old friend in his optics. The mere fact that he was an Autobot and a good soldier didn't answer any of his questions after all. Ironhide was a good soldier and had been his friend since eons and Sunstreaker was one of the Aurobots best soldiers and the most annoying nuisance in Ratchets line of work so far, yet he and Ironhide weren't alike in any way or form…apart from the fact that they both loved it to give the Decepticons a good aft kicking and if Ratchet was concerned that was what any Autobot would want.

He laughed at the hissing medic, he couldn't help it!  
"As if I could stop Medic, your better then high grade… And I didn't get nearly enough of you last night!" he licked inside the seam following it to the ankle joint and licking up the leg seam carefully maintaining his hum the entire time, he traced the opposite seam with his free hand activating sensory nodes with carefully applied pressure. He paid extra attention to the knee joint, the reactions and sounds Ratchet produced really were addictive! Primus, he would be sad when this was over but… it was better to have memories then nothing at all, he had been taught that lesson long ago. For now he intended to give the CMO an experience he would never want to forget. Reaching the knee with his glossa he removed his hand and nibbled at the armor edges, darting his glossa inside the joint for quick, teasing licks he knew would launch the already active nodes into overdrive. His own spark flared, and he laughed again… he had two weaknesses when it came to overloading, one was the sensor nodes in his back the other was pleasuring another, he never told anyone this but bringing someone to overload was one of the most arousing things he knew!  
"Tell me if this is good Medic!? I want to hear your voice…" it was half an order half a request, growled in the same deep tone and accompanied by another stronger flare from his spark. He trained his burning lust filled optics on Ratchets faceplate, wanting to know exactly what his caresses did to him.

The licks and hums continued up his leg and he was dreading the astrosecond it would reach his knee joint, because he had absolutely no idea what it would do to him! Yet that knowlege quickly presented itself when he found himself moaning and writhing underneath the city commander. His sensor read-outs were processor stimulating to say the least and his spark readily agreed with it, sending out spark flares whenever the possibility presented itself.  
"Good? This is fricken phantastic!", he admitted and arched up into the direction of the answering spark flares. He reached for the hand that had previously encircled his knee joint and brought it up to his dermaplates, to lick at every digit and all the sensible plating seams in between them, because as a medic he had a very good idea just how sensible a mechs hands could become with an already flaring spark!

He growled at Ratchet's words more then pleased with the answer, he was curious when he took his hand and almost stopped his own ministrations when he felt that talented glossa play with his digits. He should probably reclaim his hand but it felt so good that his engine revved and his spark flared in instant response.  
"Where ever did you learn that Medic? That is wonderful!" he purred over the comm. link, then retaliated by grasping the knee joint of Ratchet's right leg, pressing into the sensor nodes rhythmically.  
"Come on Medic I wanna hear you enjoy it… or I just might stop, threat or no threat!" he wanted to know that the mech was as far gone as he himself was and he wanted to know now! An inarticulate hungry growl disrupted his humming, as his spark flared again.

He doubled his efforts to make absolutely sure that he caught every little sensible plating seam as well as he could with his glossa, for Ultra Magnus was quite obviously enjoying it immensely if the revving engine and spark flares were anything to go by. Flaring his own spark while his glossa was lightly passing over one of said seams, he passed an energy crackle through the contact and heard the revving engine hitch to overdrive immediately. They wouldn't be able to keep this game up for much longer it appeared, but Ratchet found that he wouldn't mind a repeat either, should the officer request him to actually answer that question.  
"Why would you need to hear it as well, if you can already feel it?", he questioned over the nearly ignored frequency Ultra Magnus was using. If not for the partial deactivation of his own vocalizer Ratchet was sure that he'd already be begging like a femme and he sure as the pit wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of knowing just how much he craved overload at any time of his taxed processor while building up for it.

Cheeky bastard! He grinned dermaplates pressed against the knee joint, the Medic certainly knew what he was doing he was still reeling from the energy that had been sent through his hand.  
"I like to hear it, call it a quirk Medic… there's nothing more arousing then a mech withering under you're chassis, moaning his pleasure into your audios!" He spoke out loud this time or rather growled it out, his tone low and sensual while pressing his digits carefully inside the seams of Ratchet's right knee joint. He was determined to drag this out, yet he was realistic enough to know that neither the medic nor he himself could keep this up! His grin turned slightly evil.  
"No wait, there is one thing better… having the mech describe what your touch does to him…" He bit at the armor edge making Ratchet jump slightly.  
"So Medic… what exactly do I make you feel?"

"...craving...", was the lone word that left his vocalizer in as close a manner as a mech could come to do a breathless whisper. He averted his optics after such an honestly intimate admission, yet couldn't keep himself from pressing closer to the others chassis with his own and in response to that his spark sent out more energy crackles to the other flaring spark.

That one word excited him further as did the fact that Ratchet was pressing against him, but he didn't like the way he was avoiding optic contact! Still… this wasn't planned and he could understand that Ratchet might feel uneasy with it, even if he liked it. Letting go of the knee joint and recapturing his own hand he grasped Ratchet's waist, moving back against the wall he placed the medic in his lap a leg on either side of his own waist. As soon as he was in place he went back to the left knee joint, his other hand moving up Ratchet's back, to cup his helmet and drag him in for a searing kiss.  
"Yeah… that is slagging sexy Medic! I'll give you what you're craving and more if you'll let me…?" going back to using the comm. link, he explored the inside of Ratchet's mouth as eagerly as he had the night before. His spark sent out a flare closely followed by energy crackles, the medic was making him loose his cool again he wouldn't be able to control his overload this time either. It was incredible and he was very sure it had nothing to do with him knowing where to touch! No it was something else… pushing the thought to the back of his processor, he moaned into the kiss as his spark flared strongly beating at its chamber's walls, wanting the spark it felt so near.  
"Come on Medic… enjoy having me at your beg and call!" Breaking the kiss for a second, he licked at the face seams hungrily.  
"I certainly enjoy pleasing you…" He went right back to kissing, almost desperate to feel the vibrations of Ratchet's moans.

Giving in to the officer was easy enough and his spark certainly backed him up with his decision. Ratchet had lost all feeling for time or space, he wasn't even sure where he himself ended and Ultra Magnus chassis began. He moaned at the attention forwarded to his knee joint after a brief pause that was used to rearrange them, but Ratchet couldn't find it within himself to care about that right now. All he craved right now was to release his spark from the confinement of it's casing, yet he knew as well as any cybertronian what that would mean, so instead he reinforced his hold over the spark casings latches with additional bolts to make sure it wouldn't be able to just break free. It wasn't as if Ultra Magnus wasn't attractive, because he certainly was, but he'd never willingly allow his spark to just choose a mate for him before the other had had any chance to speak up in the matter. Beside that he thought that his own processor still had some kind of right to think this through before any such thing could be allowed to happen. He yearned for a bond mate, had done so even before they had left Cybertron with the Ark, but he had repressed his own longing in favor of his duties. He was an officer and an important one at that, even though most didn't exactly respect him and merely laughed his threats of deactivation off. As chief medical officer he had far more responsibilities than most mechs knew and he would gladly keep it at that, after all, no one beside Wheeljack had ever known that he was the main-matchmaker between most bonded pairs on the Ark. Only Jazz and Prowl had found themselves without his help. Hungry licks to his face seams rose him from his musings and he dared to access his sensor readouts only to have his processor swallowed by pleasure and his circuits nearly blown out by it's intensity.  
"...and I enjoy it more than you'll ever know...", he unconciously sent over the internal com without realizing it and kissed the taller officer back with such vicious licks, nips and bites that the energy crackles of his spark easily jumped out of it's casing and over to the other spark close to crash into overload alongside it.

Had he been able to he would have asked what in the pit Ratchet meant with such a statement but he found himself struggling to contain his overload, desperately wanting the medic to go over the edge with him. Unable to control his vocalizer at the same time his moans deepened and became hungry growls… normally he tried to avoid that happening since it sounded menacing as all pit and had scared one of his few lovers very badly once. He tightened his grip on the knee joint massaging it gently, it was exhilarating to do this to Ratchet, making him moan and wither and… crave! He moved his other hand down a short way to caress the back of the medic's neck with shaking digits. He had already lost the fight at this point, he could feel the overload reaching peak and break loose in a burst of energy crackles… unaware of his doing so the hand at the back of Ratchet's neck slipped down further pulling him against his chest plate, so their closed spark chambers where aligned. Primus! He wanted to open it, wanted to merge… but it wasn't his choice to make alone and he doubted that Ratchet would even consider it. That was his last real thought before the overload swallowed him up in wave upon wave of pure bliss…

Apparently it weren't just low vocalizations that could turn him on, because those moans had certainly just dropped down to growls! And they were...exquisitely pleasurable! It was as if Ultra Magnus knew just how sensible his audio-receptors were and how easily deep sounds travelled over any distance whatsoever...He was nearly lost already when his audio input reached his processor, mingling with his sensory readouts, yet the last straw was defiantly the almost clinging motion with which the other officer soothingly petted his neck and then pulled their chassis flush against each other. His spark lunged against it's casing and made the extra bolts with which he had secured it's latches rattle ominously, yet it remained closed. Ratchet could barely sigh in relief mentally when energy crackles merged and the back-lash crashed his spark into an overload that swallowed his whole awareness completely and sent him offline.


	3. The Hidden Scars

Charged…

Wishmaster: This is so far the darkest chapter of all, so beware! There are mentions of Death and Suffering, nothing for the sensitive readers out there. I am kind of specially proud of this chapter, because the medical horrors of war are only rarely considered. And I do think that we both managed to show them up rather appropriately.

Xobit Prime: It was actually a hard chapther to make... it also went off on a tangent non of us expected but it was in it's own unique way fun to do.

Wishmaster: Yeah, ya could say that.

Xobit Prime: as usual we own nothing...

Wishmaster: don't really have more ta add ta it this time, really

Xobit Prime: me neither and... it pretty much speaks for itself anyway

-

Charged….once more XD

-

He became aware again because of the weight he was clutching to his chest, he was shaking as his systems realigned themselves with random bursts of energy. He looked down on Ratchet and found that the mech was offline resting against his chest plate, the sight made his spark pulse and he felt a wave of protectiveness well up inside. Primus, he was lost, utterly and completely lost! And he had no idea of how to court the medic… shaking his head at his own thoughts he decided that laying down wouldn't be a bad idea and so shifted Ratchet down on to the berth again this time putting him on the out side of it, since he did remember that Ratchet hadn't been all too pleased when he woke up caught between his chest plate and the wall. He couldn't however help himself when it came to touching and so he gently pulled the off-line mech into his embrace. He stroked down over the white chassis carefully exploring every patch of red he encountered, the medic was fascinating him and he didn't know why… or rather since it was a quite impossible wish he didn't acknowledge its existence.

Slowly onlining he was aware of his systems still ringing with joy from the previous overload. The next thing he became aware of was the prescence of another mech and the spark already preparing to flare again, connected to the hand that stroked over his chassis in a delightful manner. Memories of the previous night and following good-morning-call flowed back into his processor and he wondered how it could be that Ultra Magnus was this...he had no word for it that seemed to fit...The mech was wonderful, yet Ratchet remained suspicious of him. Why he couldn't tell, but this sudden interest in him and the drastic change from calm and collected city-commander to demanding and impossibly arousing lover...did he dare think lover there? Yes, he had...slag, he was loosing the feeble grip he still had on his sanity and fast!  
"Stop it!", he ordered, while swinging himself from the berth with a sideways roll and landing in a crouch, producing an emergency scalpel as he slowly straightened himself up to a stand.

He got quite a shock when Ratchet suddenly moved, not to mention him drawing a weapon! He had been too caught up in exploring the white chassis to notice him coming on-line again. He had already been well on his way to aroused again but wow! The way the medic had moved, his effortless grace and the way he fell into a battle stance…his spark flared, surprising himself as much as it seemed to shock the medic. Lifting both hands up, palms outwards and sitting up slowly all the while devouring the tense form of one very, very sexy mech.

"If that is your wish, Medic although I'm a little nonplussed as to why? Did I not please you…" He knew he had and his tone was teasing when he asked, he was deliberately daring Ratchet to lie. While he seemed relaxed his battle computer had already gone trough all possible actions that would disarm the scalpel waving medic, he did however want to hear the reason for this reaction before acting! Some how the situation struck him as rather ridiculous, he had just shared some of the most exhilarating moments in his long life with Ratchet and the mech then decided to threaten him with a scalpel… he did admit to himself that everything had happened quite on accident but still. It didn't help that everything Ratchet did only seemed to heighten his attraction, slaggit right now he just wanted to jump him and proceed to make him scream in pleasure. He cursed himself for not getting to know the CMO a lot earlier, it was simply that he didn't want to get in the way and Ratchet was always busy. Going over his memories of Ratchet he admitted to himself, a little bitterly, that he had always found the mech attractive… to a point that the attraction had prevented him from finding even a casual lover after coming to earth. Still it was nothing new, he had always been exceptionally good at ignoring his own feelings and exceptionally good at lying to himself it seemed.

"Shut up! What the pit promted your fried up CPU to those actions anyway? Will I finally have to melt you down to scrap or what?! I don't think Optimus would like loosing one of his precious officers!", he sneered the last part. He had come quite close to offlining numerous times himself, if in battle against Decepticons or on the battlefield patching up their wounded...he was finally sick and tired of it all. And Optimus had just looked on...and turned away, as if he hadn't seen a thing...Ratchet was illogically angry at Ultra Magnus right now, because he was and had always been a close friend to Optimus Prime, even before his upgrade and therefore seemed to know exactly what, how and why the mech was processing anything. He slid over to the lock next to the door and tried to override it with his medical code, yet it wouldn't budge. Briefly turning surprised optics onto the refusing lock he instantly turned back to the city-commander to demand his release.  
"Let me out-", he probably would've continued if the sudden attack hadn't startled him. Yet as it was right now, he was way too preoccupied to keep a grasp on his scalpel than to shout at Ultra Magnus. It didn't alter the fact that he lost it in the end, but at least he had fought servo and bolt to keep it!

Worry quickly overwrote his lust, Ratchet's tone and what he said were meant to harm but Magnus hadn't been in command for as long as he had with out learning a thing or two about reading mechs. This was a part of why he had found Ratchet drinking himself into a stupor and what ever it was it had been festering a long time. Well… so be it, it had to get out and if that meant he had to be the punching bag… he could do that wouldn't be the first time. A memory of Optimus in more or less the same condition came to his processor, he shook his head lightly and spottet his chance at disarming the medic. Grimly struggling him to the ground and getting him to let go of that trice cursed scalpel was a lot harder then Magnus had counted on but in the end the warrior won.  
"For Primus sake Medic! You started it last night… I admit freely that you were slagged beyond sense but never the less I would have left you to recharge on your own. As to why I did what I did this morning… I can't answer you… or… I find you attractive as all pit! Have for a long while, but you never seemed interested, always angry and always busy." Ratchet continued to wiggle and struggle under him and it was driving him nuts.  
"Slaggit I didn't want to do anything but help you last night Ratchet… I never meant to hurt you…" grapping the scalpel off the floor he jumped back and off of the medic, subspacing the weapon hoping that he would refrain from using any more weapons.  
"Talk to me… even if you never want to see me again afterwards, I'll listen.."

Jumping to a defensive stance instantly his optics searched for the scalpel that had been wrung from his grasp. It wasn't as if he hadn't more of them, he was just reluctant to tipp Ultra Magnus off to that fact. He didn't detect the scalpel anywhere close to the city commanders hands, so he had either discarded it, which would've been a rather dumb move seeing as Ratchet apparently had free reign over these quarters, as strange as that seemed or he had subspaced it, which was the admittedly more logical explanation for it's absence.  
"I was not slagged beyond sense.", he grumbled while crossing his arms and turning his head to stare stubbornly at the still closed door out of Ultra Magnus quarters.  
"Let me out.", he requested again and totally ignored the rest of the other officers words. Why should he bother to explain himself to a mech who wouldn't understand a single databit of what he had seen?

Slaggit! The mech was entirely too sexy for his own good… Magnus hadn't lied when he told Ratchet that he was addictive, and pit take him, letting the medic go would be the most painful thing he had ever done…  
"You were not even able to stand, Medic! Hence how it began last night and I can't let you out Metroplex has orders not to open that door unless one of us is needed in a on-line and off-line situation or my day off is at an end!" he could of course ask Metroplex to open the door but slag if he would before the Medic had had a chance to rage, the mech obviously needed it. He nearly smiled at his own bitterness… first he had lost his brother to the Matrix, he could accept that it had been necessary but it still hurt to this day eons after it had happened. Now it seemed he would loose another loved one, someone he had barely had a chance to know… he shook his head at his own thoughts, Ratchet was hardly his lover after one night but still for something that could only be called a 'one night stand' the thought of never repeating it, of Ratchet ignoring him forever hurt like a blast from a null-ray. Magnus wished that he for just once could ignore his own programming and let the medic go but he couldn't… for all his abilities as a warrior and tactician he had a gentle spark, he instinctively tried to heal the emotional hurt of others and Ratchet was hurting so very much! His spark contracted in response to both Ratchet's and his own pain.  
"I don't care if you hit me, I don't… I don't care if you walk away afterwards and never look at me again Ratchet but you're not getting out of here before you tell me what is wrong!"

"Look, if I had been slagged beyond sense, as you claim, which I was not I might add, I wouldn't be able to recall any of the files I am still perfectly capable of accessing! Despite all my efforts to delete them.", he first shouted and then growled miserably. The sole point of overcharging his processor like that had been to try and delete some files, yet he couldn't very well tell the officer that, because as a medic he was not allowed to do what his programm dictated him to be forbidden. But he had found a way around the medic-codex-program, he had discovered that it discharged itself as unfit if he ingested enough high-grade and that he could then delete even his most painful files with just an absent thought about having them gone. The problem was that the point at which he could do that was when he was slagged worse than just beyond sense, but slagged so badly that he wouldn't even mind hugging a decepticon in his state of processor...or one of the twins he mused eerily. Yet the point at which he fell into that stage of slagged had crawled further and further away from him over the eons. His codex-program had probably found a way to become partially resistent to high-grades and the amounts he had to ingest to circumvent it had grown exponentially every time after he successfully managed to delete a file. If Ultra Magnus wouldn't have his processor for acting the way he had done a breem ago, namely threatening another officer, which was punishable by protocol and if not then certainly because of the scratched pride the mech had to suffer from after Ratchets quite direct refusal. Ratchet found he had just managed to hand himself in. He was sure that the city-commander would report him for his actions regarding his codex-program, yet he found he didn't care about it anyway, after all going offline permanently was probably better than to be forced to function the way his processor was doing right now.

Narrowing his optics as the meaning of the medic's words sank in, he considered his options… he should report him but on the other hand he understood all too well the need to remove memories! He had much he wished to forget… memories of the severed link between him and Orion, of off-lining a mech for the first time in his first battle… of sending troops into situations that were so hopeless he knew most of them would never return. Slowly he sat down on the recharge berth and lifted his head locking his optics onto Ratchet's face plate.  
"I… I can understand the need to forget, I might not have your perspective on the battle field Ratchet… but I have another!" He pressed his dermaplates together wondering if he would do more damage then good by continuing but decided that he needed to get the medic speaking or yelling… just get him to vent somehow. "You save lives Ratchet, when you have a spark in your hand… you treat it like a treasure, something precious that can never be replaced if lost…" he felt washer fluid escape his optics as he recalled the feel of a spark in his hand…  
"When I touch a spark… it is to rip it out of its casing, to extinguish it forever… yes those I sent off-line are the enemy and it's either me or them out there... but every time it happens I have to decide if I really have more right to live then the mech who's life I'm ending."

While Ultra Magnus had apparently been considering not to report him he had turned his head back to him to gape at him in astonishment. The washer fluid escaping his optics wasn't faked, he could clearly read his anguish in his optics and even felt it in the slight tremor that went through his spark. But he still had that nagging feeling that what Ultra Magnus was admitting was laughable in comparison...  
"You have no idea...no idea at all...your perspective is only that of a minor battle field. You haven't seen the true horrors of war.", he had to turn away, not from Ultra Magnus per sé, but from the memories his optics, bright with washer fluid were rising up. He wanted to run from those memories, to bury them deep inside of his databanks and delete the name of the file so that he would know never to access them again. It was how he had survived as long as he had. Yet his processor seemed to be disagreeing with him and raised images before his optics he avoided desperately and hadn't ever managed to delete, because they were too closely linked to his spark and to the very core of the person that he was. He couldn't safely delete those files without either offlining himself or altering his personality drastically and permanently.

He jumped at the medic slamming him up against the door and snarled angrily.  
"Then tell me Ratchet! Every single death you have seen every last word or moan… every-slagging-detail-you-can-give!" He was invading the mech's personal space, pushing him against the door with his chassis. He didn't even think of interfacing at that moment, he wanted to help and getting him to talk was the only way to do that! He saw the washer fluid spilling from the wide surprised optics and wanted nothing more then to enfold him in a hug and make the tears go away but that was not what he needed right now. He needed to be forced to let go of whatever it was that festered inside of him, otherwise he would end up destroying himself and while Magnus could live with loosing any chance at winning the medics spark for himself… he would never be able to live with knowing that he could have stopped his self-destruction.  
"TELL ME RATCHET!"

He was too startled by the sudden agression with which he was met and didn't even feel the plates of his back scrapping against the door into which Ultra Magnus was inevitably pressing him. Telling him...unfolding those horrors before his own optics and passing them on to another...he had never ever considered doing that before, deeming it beyond cruel, yet if he wanted to know...why shouldn't he show him just what war was like? Washer fluid went down his faceplate with barely a notice to his processor and for the first time in forever...he willingly accessed the nameless files in his databanks.  
"Imagine-", he cut himself off and began anew after he had managed to gather his wits, at least slightly so that he could at last keep his vocalizer steady.  
"Imagine a place engulfed in darkness...where you wonder whether your offline and alone or just drifting close to recharge, completely forgotten...it's what a med-bay feels like at night. That's why we keep the lights on. To chase the ghost-sparks away that still linger...They remind us of their prescence each passing cycle...I've been a medic for as long as my databanks can track, but just like you I served on the battlefield as well. Autobots didn't always have the luxury to leave guards behind or only send out a unit that might return or not...I functioned through the dark times of this war...I was on the battlefield doing the things you described...yet they were never what frightened me...because while the fight raged on...it lasted...peace lasted...a morbid kind of peace, I'll admit that...but still better than what I would return to. I always knew, in the back of my processor, that I would return to a sort-pile...That's what they call injured mechs in battle-medic-training...a sort-pile...you sort through them...tell the minor cases to return later, calculate what you'll need for the middle wounded...accelerate your speed of working on the harder cases and...the really bad cases...those you know will soon just fade away...those you have to promise...to promise to be patient, that you'll come back to them as soon as possible...even though you know you will not make it in time...not even if you started right away...they would still offline no matter what...those are the lost ones...the true victims of this war. Not the soldiers that die on the battlefield...don't get me wrong, I do not belittle their sacrifice...yet at least their death is swift...and not filled with promises broken even before they are aired...", he chocked on the washer fluid trailing down his frame, seeping through his armor seams, scrapping at his plating and burning his wires. He had a lot of pain to wash out, a lot of toxic substances that had gathered in his system and hadn't been expelled in far too long it seemed. Wires to his vocalizer were closing off because of the additional strain and he lowered his head, leaning it against the shoulder joint before him. There was more, a lot more, yet he was haunted by the images too fast to process them all and pass them on.

He knew that the medic was lost to the world when he leaned his head on his shoulder, he slowly lifted him a little carrying the still speaking and crying mech to the recharge berth. He sat down on it back to the wall and rearranged Ratchet on his lap, so that he could hug him. He moved carefully and slowly so as not to disturb the recount that at times was so garbled he couldn't understand a word… but he understood enough and he didn't fight the fluid gathering in his own optics. Ratchet was right he did not know about this part of the war, when he was done on the battle field he could go and be with his friends… sometimes there where fewer of them then before but he was still surrounded by life. Ratchet on the other hand didn't have that, he went from battle field to battle field and on top of that he had to choose who lived and who died. No wonder he was in such a state! Not really thinking he began stroking the medic's helmet soothingly, tightening the arm around his back in an effort to make him understand that he was safe. How many eons had he kept all this inside? He knew that Ratchet had friends, why hadn't he sought help from them? Nothing about this medic was easily answered, so instead he just listened to the pain filled words, stroking his chassis soothingly and cried right along with him. Sometimes murmuring encouragements, sometimes reaffirming that his decisions had been the right ones when the broken voice asked for it but most of all just being there making sure that Ratchet knew he was not alone, that someone was there fore him. He didn't care how long this took, it was necessary! On the off chance that it would last beyond his day off and Ratchet's next shift he informed Metroplex that neither of them would be available until this was over. Metroplex worriedly ask what 'this' was, easily hearing the tense anger and sadness in his commander's and friend's voice. Unthinking Magnus kissed the top of Ratchet's helmet and answered  
"It's not my story to share 'Plex! Just make sure we are not disturbed, old friend." He cut the link again and devoted his entire attention to the medic.

"Most of the time...I didn't even know their names...all I have are nameless faceplates and the broken expressions on their team mates faceplates whenever I had to tell them that they wouldn't ever have them back...and the severity of their injuries always lingers in the back of my processor...Whenever Optimus calls out names, I hope against logic that just for once they'll return unharmed...yet they never do...and the twins are the worst...they always throw themselves into the center of danger as if it's a funny game to them...they are so young...so lacking in their knowledge about war...seeing a mech offline is...is like nothing I can describe...the desperate urge to just do something, to somehow keep him holding on...is maddening...it is so all-consuming that nothing else can be processed...yet even that bleaches out in comparison to...have your creator lying in front of you...knowing you won't be able to air empty and already broken promises if he asks you for the truth...So I had to tell him the truth...every slagged step there is...indicating the imminent...telling him what to expect...and dread what you know is inevitable...yet those optics...looking at you with such regret...when dermaplates are vowing that he's proud of you and will always be...even now...shortly before the Matrix...he teaches you...continues to teach you just how very precious life is...", his vocalizer was finally offlined by his internal repair system when too many different poisons had eaten themselves through the wiring and were messing up the data-streams. His processor was reeling from the images of that particular orn. He had stayed at his berth the whole time, ignoring anything and everything, not caring whether he got a sufficient amount of recharge or energon. Staying with him even when he had sent him away, yet his hands had never let go of his chassis. The cause had been simple enough, a leaking wire hadn't been tended to in time and an infection had spread through his systems like lightening, dissecting every valuable stream of data it caught in it's wake. In the end all that had still been the same, was the chassis, everything on the inside had been either melted, twisted into unrecognizable assemblies of wires and metal or fried to the point of just crumbling to piles of ashes if touched. But his optics had remained an anchor Ratchet had been able to hold on to, even when he had lost function of his hands, he had still been able to tell him so much with the silent, but clear way in which his optics spoke. Clicking and hissing with his air vents was all Ratchet felt capable of right now and so he folded in on himself, desperately wanting these images to pass and be over with. He needed to get them out of his processor! And if he had to drink himself into a state near offlining into recharge on the spot, he knew he couldn't continue to function like this. Today all he wanted was to forget for some time, he would not even be aiming to delete any files, just to drink himself under the imaginary table and recharge in peace for a change...

So much pain… Magnus understood pain better then Ratchet would ever believe, no he wasn't a medic and he didn't see the war from that side but he had seen the beginning of it all. He had lost his brother to duty and their Creator on the battle field all within one vorn. Few knew that when he called Optimus brother and visa versa they were speaking the utter truth, they had had what those twins Ratchet had spoken of had. The Matrix had… severed the link between them, buffering them both and doing… something that assured their survival. He had distanced himself from Optimus after that and they had not seen each other for vorns! When they met again it was like meeting a stranger, in many ways Optimus was still a stranger… they had recaptured only a little of their former bond but… tightening his grip on Ratchet he admitted that being with this mech was a lot like being with Optimus as their bond was now. He continually tethered on the edge of just 'knowing' and not understanding at all, it had all been easier when they had just been Magnus Pax and Orion Pax, a pair of promising twin sparklings. Unfortunately the war and the Matrix had changed their future and Magnus was still not sure if it was for the good. Ratchet stuttered to a halt and Magnus could guess at what had happened, he had after all seen it happen to Optimus often enough. The medic needed recharge, unbroken by his memories. There were only two ways of achieving that and Magnus overruled the thought of interfacing before it even rose in his processor, which left high grade… shifting a little he accessed his subspace pocket and brought out one of the cubes he had stoved away last night. Holding it against Ratchet's dermaplates he spoke gently "drink Medic, it won't make you forget but it will let you recharge in peace!" he wanted to tell the mech a lot of things but he knew that this was not the time. Ratchet was far from done with his healing and to Magnus that was the most important thing, that Ratchet found balance again. Balance and perhaps peace!

Registering that the energon cube resting close to his dermaplates was filled with high-grade was what made him shut up before he even started complaining and obey with the command. He sipped it down slowly, mindful of his abused vocalizer and felt the effect the high-grade had on him when his hands finally stilled their trembling after he was halfway done with the cube.

"Thank y-", he managed to produce, before his vocalizer was forced offline again and only after Ultra Magnus had taken the empty cube away from his dermaplates. He caught the position they were in then, him sitting on the other officers lap, while the other was reclining into the wall on their berth.  
'What the?' Had he truly thought 'their berth' back there? Yes he had...and he still thought it...strangely fitting, so he quickly dismissed that thought out of his processor and gladly accepted the second cube of high grade when Ultra Magnus passed it to him, because he was now able to hold it himself. His right hand was resting dangerously close to the mechs hip joint and he didn't dare move it away, yet squashed the impulse to curl his digits into the joint anyway, because now was hardly the time for that, even though his spark had already started pulsing at his realization of their precarious positions.

It was a relief to feel Ratchet relax in his arms, too bad it had to be from high grade.  
"Shh… you should know better then try to use your vocalizer when it is that badly strained." He found the second of the three high grade cubes he had taken and placed it in the mech's now steady hand. It was hard not to touch him… he wanted to just run his hands all over the white chassis, either to get Ratchet to relax fully and recharge or to create pleasure again… he wasn't sure which wish was strongest. If he hadn't been so worried about Ratchet it would have been sheer torture to have him there in his embrace and oh! So close to his spark. He shivered violently, only just managing not to jerk in surprise when he felt Ratchets spark pulse… that was so not fair!  
"R-Ratchet… are you feeling well?" considering all that had been going on he couldn't take what he was sensing at face value! It was perhaps not the most cleverly phrased question but his processor was already filled with calculations on where and how he needed to touch to get that pulsing turned into flares. Primus! he couldn't think of that right now… Ratchet needed recharge and peace not a horny mech.

Downing the second cube fast he let the empty shell fall down onto the floor instead of handing it back to Ultra Magnus, because the officer had already produced another cube of high-grade and Ratchet held on to that cube as if his sanity depended on it and maybe it did...He tried to forget his most recent memories, yet found them running through his processor just like they always did between his second and third cube. The past joor had been filled with two overloads and a traumatizing retelling of past events, yet what he focused on were the lead ups to the overloads and he found himself justifying that by convincing himself that it was only so that he wouldn't have to think about the other memories. Yet his spark knew the difference between pain and pleasure precisely and so it pulsed a bit faster, readying itself to flare in response to the stimulation the memories were evoking in him. Ultra Magnus had asked him if he felt well...and Ratchet found himself beyond feeling well, because he was actually feeling quite ready to just stay where he was for the next orn and leave the rest of Metroplex' inhabitants to fend for themselves, no matter what it was they wanted this time.

Ratchet didn't answer just chugged down the cube as if his life depended on it and grasped the last one in a death grip. Magnus didn't mind his behavior this time, he was however rather worried when the third cube went untouched and Ratchets spark pulsed faster.  
"Ratchet? hey! Ratchet, I need to know that you are okay?" careful not to push the cube out of the mechs hands he lifted his own hand up to grasp the white chin and gently turned the others faceplate a little towards himself. Ratchet looked rather blank and was altogether too close where the peace of Magnus's spark was concerned. He would rather have the fiery, scalpel wielding Ratchet back… or Primus help him the hungry, snarling mech that moaned so… stop that! He berated himself feeling his own spark pulse hungrily as the image files from earlier popped up unbidden… not to mention the sound files. Leaning his head back against the wall with a clang he cursed his overactive libido to the smelting pools. But even in the midst of his growing arousal his overruling concern was to protect Ratchet. And in and off itself ridiculous thought, the medic could very well take care of himself… but so could Optimus, yet Magnus felt the same way about his brother... the exact same way!

Noticing a hand moving his face, he recognized the digits immediately and his spark flared at the realisation that it was still Ultra Magnus with him, touching him.  
"But I'm no-ot.", he hiccupped and tried to reset his fuel pump by dumping the next cube down his throat in a few gulps. Leaning against the hand that was splayed on his back, supporting him in his sitting position on Ultra Magnus lap, he let his head roll to the right and rest against the other mechs shoulder joint. The room was spinning, but Ratchet knew that it was merely his equilibrium gauge in a struggle with the high-grade he had just ingested as fast as possible. His vision provided him with a blurry white shape and he reached out for it with his left hand, stabilizing himself by finally digging his right hand into the hip joint it had been resting above and itching to explore. Drawing the unresisting hand closer to his dermaplates he licked the digits, savoring the shudder that went through the mech he was leaning against.  
"...forget...please let me forget...", he begged in a pleading tone and sucked on the palm he was cupping in his own.

By the Matrix! How could Magnus deny him? It was such a simple request… and Magnus wanted it as much if not more then Ratchet did. Still he allowed Ratchet to set the pace hoping that he would be able to stop if the medic change his mind suddenly. But it was fragging hard! Moaning in bliss at the digits digging into his hip joint, the moans however quickly turned into aroused growls as once again Ratchet showed him just what a glossa could do to a mechs hand.  
"Medic… oh! Are you sure? If-if your not sure then stop… please Medic! I wont be able to stop this if you continue." He was shaking with desire at this point, straining not to change position with out having received some sort of sign from Ratchet that it really was okay to touch him again. Primus! It was Optimus all over again… and as with his brother he longed for the bond that would tell all these things. He had had it once… and he still didn't know how the Matrix had removed it without killing both Optimus and himself or why it had removed it in the first place. Yet even knowing all of this he also knew that he really wanted Ratchet for whom them medic was and not as a substitute for his brother… actually the only thing better then having Ratchet would be sharing him with Optimus… as they would have shared their bond mate if the Matrix had never parted them in the first place.

"Then don't stop and let me continue.", he murmured, barely raising his dermaplates from the palm in which he was tracing every armor seam, every dip of metal and every scratch he could find on the sensitive metal. Moaning at the growls keeping pace with his sparks pulsing he felt his spark flare again, eager for what this mech had made it feel before, yet this time they would share so much more...that it fascinated Ratchets processor to such a degree where he was almost unaware of the berth they were sitting on. If asked he wouldn't even be able to tell in which corner of the universe he was at all...  
Turning slightly so that his weigth rested more comfortably against the city commanders chest, he let go of his hand and instead seized his helmet, pulling him close to play with his glossa over quivering dermaplates. Lightly tracing his right hand up from the hip joint and over the others spark casing, even though it was a tight fit with their chests pressed this close together...

It would have taken a stronger mech then Magnus was to stop now, he only hoped that Ratchet would forgive him for all that had happened, and was about to happen, sometime in the future… preferably before either one of them off-lined for good! But he couldn't keep his thoughts from Ratchet's actions for long, his caresses felt much too good. He moved his head a tiny bit closer and turned Ratchet's teasing into a proper kiss, sucking that talented glossa into his mouth stroking against it with his own. Since Ratchet was now supporting his own body if a bit wobbly, Magnus had two hands free, one he used to map out the sweet spots on the mech's back the other he moved to the medic's helmet carefully tracing his audio receptors. To be honest he wanted to go straight for Ratchet's knee joint's again, the sounds the mech made when those sensors were stimulated… but no this time he wanted to explore that tempting white chassis as fully as possible!  
"You have no idea about what you do to me Medic!" he had opened the comm. link again.  
"Your touch is pure bliss and I can't get enough of it…"

"I don't think I have...but you could tell me.", he sent back over the communication link and lost himself to the fiery kiss in which Ultra Magnus had dragged him. Whimpering at the touch to the over-energized sensory nodes in his audio receptor he tightened the hold his left hand had on the city commanders helmet and kept him in a lock of dermaplates and a now almost forceful clashing of glossas. Moaning when the sensitive junctions of the data-wires underneath his back platings were explored, he pressed closer to the city commander, slipping his right hand underneath the others plating at his sides, which were a little bit awkward to reach, but he still managed.

Growling into Ratchet's mouth Magnus digged his digits into some conveniently located back seams, ever so careful not to harm yet forcefully enough to cause a pleasant sense of shock to flow along Ratchet's wires and circuits. He kept caressing the audio sensor with now shaking digits, he wanted to make Ratchet whimper again… Pit he wanted every noise he could wring from the medic's vocalizer and he would save every one of them in his databanks! He was nearly delirious with desire already, if possible Ratchet's words made him burn hotter, so did the feel of the white chassis pressing further to him and the other hand… Primus the medic was lethal!  
"Tell you? I don't think it can be put into words… but you'll know anyway Medic, if you keep doing that!"

"Then that's just what I'll do.", he decided and tickled over sensor nodes and data wires, disturbing the stream slightly and causing it to create little information flashes in the others processor. Ultra Magnus was teasing his audio receptors and Ratchet could barely grasp a clear though in his own CPU, moaning and sinking further against the city commanders chest, he tugged at the interal wires and possessively thrust his glossa against the others internal platings and retracted it immediatley trying to draw him out and offering a new battle field. His left hand dropped from the others helmet and rubbed over the armour plates surrounding the shoulder joint. Somehow Ratchet just couldn' t help it, but get the feeling as if he had to just curl in on himself and shut the rest of the base out, then Ultra Magnus might even agree with him.

Taking the bait Magnus trust his glossa into Ratchet's mouth, he tried not to be too aggressive but it was hard… especially since Ratchet just seemed to melt against him even further. The pleasure that the medic was creating in him had him growling like one of those organic creatures that sometimes triggered Metroplex's perimeter alerts… Bears? He didn't really care not as long as Ratchet was in his lap! Unable to stop the impulse any longer he left the audio receptors and went for a knee joint, he pressed his digits into it, but only a little, so as to create a teasing shock that would have Ratchet yearning for more… or so he hoped. With his other hand he explored the edges and insides of the medics back seams.  
"Your turn Medic, tell me what you want me to do? Trust me I'll do just about anything you ask of me…"

"Keep me here and don't let the others take me away...don't let them pull me out of here...", he whispered brokenly, not even realizing that the intensity of his spark flares had sent his logic processor into recharge already, so that all that his spark decided was approved of by his CPU without any further discussion. Enjoying the way Ultra Magnus glossa moved against him, accompanied with the growls that just made all his systems scream for the other mech he could do little more than moan in delight at the way the other touched him. Only when Ultra Magnus suddely let his hand trail down from his audio receptors to grasp his knee joint did his spark flares reach a new peak and his vocalizer produced a surprised shriek.

"I'll keep you here for as long as you need it Medic!" he didn't need to think the promise over Ratchet needed this and that was all the reason Magnus needed for it to be done, he was the city commander after all! If he thought the chief medical officer needed uninterrupted rest he would get it, that the 'rest' incidentally took place in Magnus's quarters… well the world moved in interesting ways sometimes and he knew that Metroplex wouldn't ask they knew and respected eachother. He only hoped that no emergencies would arise that would demand their attention... Laughing a bit at the shriek Magnus pressed a bit harder on the knee joint and sent over the comm. link:  
"I'll take that as a 'continue please', now talk! Come on Medic, you know how much I like to hear what my touch does to you hmmm?" Those spark flares spoke for themselves, Ratchet was seriously aroused but… Magnus was greedy he wanted to hear it!

"Promise!", he demanded, seizing the opportunity to pull the mech closer and twist the wires in his side. Hoisting himself up onto his knee joints, coming to rest straddling the others right leg he sucked at the city commanders glossa lightly and then moved his dermaplates over the others lower ones, slowly sucking his way downwards to a point only slightly above the others vocalizer and hummed in contentment at the firm strokes to his knee joints, where he had trapped one of Ultra Magnus hands with his action.  
"You make me feel as if the whole universe reduces to just the both of us whenever I feel your spark flare.", he admitted over the communication link and groaned in enjoyment at the nearly forceful, yet still controlled squeeze of his knee joint. Ratchet had not idea why he was so receptive to their stimulation, but he knew that he deeply enjoyed what the other mech was doing to him.

"I promise!" He felt a hot surge of desire when Ratchet took charge and changed their positions. Primus… it was… words failed to describe it. Letting go like this was not something he had been able to do since Orion… Optimus! His growl turned even deeper when he felt Ratchet humming against his neck. He retaliated by tightening his grip on the knee in his palm.  
"And you make me feel free again Medic… free to be who I truly am!" he grasped the back of Ratchet's neck and carefully pulled him back so that his neck joint and upper chest plates were exposed to Magnus's dermaplates and glossa. Licking and nibbling on armor and licking inside seams in a near frenzy of lust he truly let go of himself for the first time in vorns… his growl turned into a snarl and energy crackles escaped his spark along with a powerful flare.

He moaned loudly at the sudden assault of Ultra Magnus dermaplates and glossa on his chassis and could barely process the others words as he squeezed his knee joint, eliciting a shout of pure pleasure from the medic.  
"Merge...merge with me now!", he struggled to request as he felt the others energy crackles travelling onto his own chassis. If they didn't interface by merging their sparks soon, then they wouldn't manage to at all. The time left between the state of a spark crackling with energy so much that some of it had to be released was usually brief before overload, so they would have to act quick now. Somehow he still remembered that they were doing this for a purpose, even though it escaped his processor what that purpose was...for all he knew they could just be interfacing for the pure bliss with which it would wipe their processors.

Had the demand been stated just a few nanoclicks ago Magnus would have found a way to stop… or at least tried to, now he didn't even question it.  
"I thought you'd never ask." He bowed forward to lick at the seams on Ratchet's chestplates that would soon open, all the while retracting his own plates. As air rushed into Magnus's spark chamber he pressed his faceplate against Ratchet's neck snarling softly in cybertronian, mostly compliments, descriptions of feelings and declarations of want. Somehow he kept from stating that he had fallen in love, but only just barely and why he didn't just say it was a bit obscure because Ratchet would know anyway when their sparks touched.

"Well, you just didn't seem inclined to move at all, so what's a mech to do but take matters into his own hands?", he smirked back coyly, yet jerked against Ultra Magnus as the other pressed against his neck and with that against one of the most delicate joints Ratchet possessed if close to overload. Hastily he commanded his chest plates to open and reveal his spark, because he wasn't at all sure if he would remember how to do that in just a few astroseconds, because the energy crackles that slammed into his sensor nodes, now undeluted by metal for Ultra Magnus had bared his spark, were pushing him to his limits fast. He registered the compliments and quietly his spark seconded the feelings the other discribed, but he couldn't reply because he couldn't drag enough focus to form the words, instead he let his spark flare stronger than ever and caress the others chassis with energy crackles of it's own, licking at the others outer energy sphere and trying to initiate a connection, which held for the tenth of an astrosecond and broke off again. It was a delicate task to make and stabilize such a connection in the short time they had at their hands, but Ratchet was confident that they'd manage, after all it really should be the least of their worries shortly before overload. But fact was that the connection broke off five times before Ratchet could stabilize it, because he was just too far gone in the feelings his processor was sorting through to spare the prescence of mind. It was unbelievably embarassing, but Ultra Magnus didn't laugh about it at all, rightly interpreting it for what it was, a sign that he had managed to work him into a state where his processor could barely manage what was passed his way and his spark yearned for even more. The intensity of an interface would swipe all of his systems, that he was sure of already and he welcomed the thought, because he would need time to work through all this when he onlined after his post-interface induced recharge.

It was a mixture of pleasure and agony to have the spark connection nearly established then broken again so many times. Still Magnus knew why it was happening and he knew that what was to come was worth the little pain. When finally the link stabilized he couldn't help enfolding Ratchet in a tight embrace, his processor was flooded with sensations that he couldn't sort through fast enough and pleasure swirled in a tight coil as if winding up to an explosion. In a way it was… this merge would rival anything he had ever felt before, even his time with Orion.  
"Medic… Primus!..." Magnus snarled incoherently into Ratchet's neck, then licked and nibbled at the joint. He felt the small shocks as some of the energy crackles zapped his glossa, it wasn't painful at all instead it made his glossa tingle as if the systems in it were experiencing localized overloads.

"Ratchet should suffice.", he retorted absentmindedly before a deep moan reverbrated throughout his whole chassis, his engine coming to life and nearly turning too fast for his joints to lock it into one specific gear. Feeling his frame pressing closer to Ultra Magnus chassis as he tightened his hold on him, his spark tore another shout from him, he was beyond any pleasure he had ever felt before, overcome by an exhilarating promise of more to come before it would eventually draw to an end. In his focus to establish it, the connection had become far stronger than it should have been with all the energy crackles that were dancing over their frames, but Ratchet spared it no mind, barely realizing that he had managed to forge the connection at all only focusing on the pleasure they were creating and gaining from one another.

Latching onto Ratchet's neck, fighting to keep the bite gentle, he didn't really manage to process the words coming from the medic but he did hear the moan and felt the vibrations of his straining engine… but then Magnus's own engine was working equally hard. The link between their sparks was exhilarating, strong enough to carry all the pleasure both of them felt. He didn't think to question its strength, or the fact that it seemed…dual. He was loosing himself in the pleasure they had between them letting it overtake his processor, willingly aiming at an overload that would probably off-line them both. Inside his spark something, that had been in place for far longer then it had ever been intended to, slowly eroded in the pleasure storm. It gave way entirely when their combined overload hit and all the exquisite pleasure they felt, but couldn't even begin to contain, went coursing down this newly reopened way as an unstoppable flood…


End file.
